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	<title>Reality Bytes &#187; Literature</title>
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	<description>Stepping into reality...</description>
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		<title>Sonnet 17</title>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jun 2009 03:08:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jesh</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Inspiration]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Literature]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I admire this poem: Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant [...]


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</ol>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I admire this poem:</p>
<p><strong>Sonnet 17</strong><br />
by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_Neruda"><em>Pablo Neruda</em></a></p>
<p>I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,<br />
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.<br />
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,<br />
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.</p>
<p>I love you as the plant that never blooms<br />
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;<br />
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,<br />
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.</p>
<p>I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.<br />
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;<br />
so I love you because I know no other way</p>
<p>in which there is no I or you<br />
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand<br />
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close</p>


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